The Magnificent Mister Crow
by Kingtopher
Summary: The crazy little psycho finally finds his way into Diagon alley and raises general hell. He also finds himself a part time job and other unlikely things.


**The Magnificent Mister Crow**

**(Experiment the First)**

**As promised, a story based on Crows misadventures in the backgrounds, narrated by the little psycho himself. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: All themes and characters that relate to the Harry Potter series are not under my ownership.**

Twas the night before Christmas- wait, cross that. Take it from the top. Twas yesterday morning and I was in a rather _confrontational_ mood, so I looked into to finding my current favorite punching bags. Namely, Mark Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

The only problem was the bloody fools had gone and ditched me. Typical human behavior.

What a wondrous morning and look at those stars, simply delightful. I do suppose some might disagree with me though. Not regarding the beauty of the celestial bodies, but my claim of it being morning. You see it was actually 12:01 a.m.

I tend to enjoy a brisk morning walk as soon as I feel fully rested and that usually happens just a few moments after I end my evening walk. I do never sleep you see.

Hmmm… now what would make this morning perfect? Ahh, yes, I can pay a visit to my dear friends Mark and Harry. I haven't seen them in well over a month and I can't let them think I'd forgotten our little feud.

That has always been my way I suppose, attack maliciously next make them think I've moved on and finally come back to finish the job. But I digress.

The walk to that insufferable Snape's house would be closer and I didn't feel like waiting, so off I skipped on my merry way to cause mischief and mayhem. If only Atticus could come to, then we could have a party, as it is he is currently ill.

Once I left the safe embrace of my heavily protected woods it was only a matter of time before I found myself right outside of my greatest adversaries house.

Then I began to knock…

And I knocked…

And for some more time I knocked that bloody door…

Okay this was just rude! It's one thing to ignore me for a few moments, but I've been at this for over three hours!

As if on cue my well trained eyes picked up the slightest flick back and forth in the curtains. I got my hopes up for a mili-second, but then I noticed whom it was.

"To much of a coward to face me Severus?" I said in an attempt to enrage the brooding bat, "Not going to go hide behind your chemistry sets are you?"

I waited for I couple moments and turned around on my heel and licked my bloody knuckles. It didn't help my now shortened nerve that the voices in my head started to laugh at me as a walked from the house.

_What's wrong Phillip? Can't stand up against a stupid old prat like Snape?_

"Shut up you damn voice!" I yelled, causing several of the neighboring houses to awaken.

_Ooohh… That was impressive. Are you going to quite me down by verbal yelling? All your going to do is get yourself locked up in another institute._

I grumbled and grunted a bit in vein protest, but in the end I yielded. I've learned years ago that the voice might be infuriating, but in its own way it helps.

Still I hate that damn voice.

Well, with that little chapter of my life under control I decided it to travel to my next destination. For all I knew, Mark and Harry could be rooming together, the wizard prats.

I jumped in great bounds up and down the street. I find simple tricks like that keep me from growing _mad_ with boredom.

Finally, number seven Privet drive and the lights are on too. This is perfect; I can probably trick Vernon into letting me sleep the night. Hell, while I'm at it I would bet that I could get some money for one of his kidneys. The fool is easily tricked into doing whatever I want.

Wait… his blood type is incredibly common. His kidney is worthless to me.

Well I suppose that it is time to knock the door. I should use my left hand this time; the right isn't done scabbing over from the previous three hours of knuckle busting knocking.

With in only five knocks Vernon was right at the door. Of course I didn't stop hitting, his face was far to inviting to my fist. He, however, did not seem nearly as enthused by it.

"Would you get your bloody fist out of my face!" the fat man yelled, "Why are you even here?"

Crow cocked his head and gave his most award-winning smile. Vernon grimaced slightly.

"Well…" Dursley muttered with gritted teeth, "I'm waiting for a reason."

I took note of the rifle the old man was holding behind his bathrobe. Perhaps it wasn't time to mess with Vernon.

"Can Harry come out and play?" I asked politely.

The man looked with a face so shocked you might have guessed I actually had just asked for his kidney out of the blue.

"Come again?" Mr. Dursley asked, "My hearing is going a bit and I didn't quite catch that."

This time I yelled at as loud as physically possible, "CAN HARRY POTTER COME OUT AND PLAY!"

My shout seemed to have knocked him back a few feet, or perhaps that was my telekinesis. Either way, Vernon was sufficiently terrified, therefore my job complete.

"I'm afraid he's not here at the moment", Vernon said as he got up off his now bent rifle, "You'd better get out of here before I report you."

At the statement, "Harry isn't here", I was sufficiently peeved, but I did suppose I could salvage the situation. Perhaps now I could get some information on that place those bloody wizards said they were hiding off at.

"You're going to report me aye?" I said with a steadily growing smirk, "Perhaps I should report you to the bobbies. You do realize even though your gun is now flattened, it is still illegal in Britain without a permit".

The large oaf began to sweat a bit in his bathrobe, "Perhaps we can c-come to some kind of a-arrangement."

My smile climaxed to its usual magnitude, "Tea would be lovely thanks."

I then proceeded to march my way into the house as an invited guest. I really did stick it to those wards the bloody wizards put in. The only thing I wonder is why they would allow someone like Dursley the authority to let someone in or not. Terrible plan if you ask me.

I silently thanked those stupid planners as I gazed at the minute changes that had been made to the Dursley's home since my last visit months before. They'd really let the place go, even my raggedy tent didn't have letters scattered everywhere.

Once I had my fill of the view, I sat at the head of Vernon's table and watched with delight as he burned himself trying to make a decent cup of tea.

He placed the abominable cup in front of me.

"Any sugar?" he asked hesitantly, perhaps he'd finally lost it and decided I was a dream, so why not act polite.

I nodded as he brought his sugar and offered me two lumps, "Leave the bowl", I said.

He sat silently as I dropped piece after piece into my small glass with painstaking precision. Once finished I glanced casually at the perfect pyramid that was quickly melting in my cup before I slobbered it into my mouth.

I often enjoy tea of this variety after a good friend of mine shared his love of sugar with me.

After I emptied the cup it finally occurred to me the Dursley had been patiently waiting for me to start talking, perhaps he wasn't as dense as first assumed.

"Haven't I seen you before?" Vernon asked, it seemed he vaguely recalled the incident when I put laxatives into his brunch last November.

"No", I said with an eerily crooked smile, "You must certainly be mistaken, I am but a humble child here to see my good friend."

Sometimes my acting skills scare even myself, but Dursley was less than impressed.

"You're not one of those damnable freak wizards are you?" he asked as if it was the most normal question in the world.

I cocked my head shut my eyes and smiled for a moment to make the scene even more awkward for my host. Given that it was just past midnight, we sat opposite of each other in a long table, and I had just threatened to report him to the police, this was easier said than done.

I finally spoke, "Sir, I am no more a wizard than you. In fact, I would very much enjoy seeing the destruction of their entire society." I let out a childish giggle at the end, the kind that one of my age might make if someone passes gas.

He grunted approval as he sipped something that I could only assume was a bit harder than tea. This was going to be easier than I thought.

"Wait", Vernon began, "What is your name again?"

"Oh, how terribly rude", I apologized, "Phillip Crow, at your service."

"Hmm… Crow", the great oaf thought allowed, "I knew a couple by that name once. They worked for the same firm that I do, but in Kent as accountants. They died years ago though, leaving behind such a freakish little infant… Wait"

That finally hit me where it hurt, not only had the oaf known my parents and by extension me, the only thing he remembered was I was a freak. Imagine that, me, a freak.

"A FREAK AM I!" I exclaimed with intense fury, so much so that without my direct control objects began to fly up around the room and knock around the table.

"I didn't mean…" the oaf tried to say.

It was to late for him, I had already decided his punishment. I stood up on the table and slowly walked over to him, knocking over all his papers and teapots.

"Now see here!" he said, trying to sound demanding, but coming off as frightened, "I demand you sit down!"

Completely ignoring this, I marched right before him. I was about to kick him threw the wall when I gazed down and noticed a small parcel addressed to Harry  
Potter.

Forgetting what I was doing entirely, I opened up the letter with my trusty dagger and read it to myself. Hmmm… now I could work with this.

"Dursley, it appears that you get off with a warning this time. Well not a warning as much as a promise. You are on my list and hence that means one day I will kill you", I said as I made an abrupt u-turn towards the door, "Until the appointed time, tata."

"Wait!" Vernon said with newfound courage, "I demand you tidy this place up!"

As I finally existed the house I snapped my fingers once and everything that had been knocked around and destroyed was instantly repositioned to where it was when I entered.

I proceeded to skip down the street at a rather accelerated pace counting, one, two, and…

**BOOM!**

In series of small explosions ravaged number seven Privet drive. Nothing that could destroy the building, but the rooms will be sufficiently scorched.

Perhaps I should have warned Mr. Dursley, I can destroy things with ease, but when I attempt to repair them, now that is scary.

* * *

It was five in the morning when I finally found my self outside that wretched place they called _The Leaky Cauldron_.

It made me shudder just to look at the place.

Magic of any variety makes me uneasy and on edge, one might think that I would then try to avoid it, but on the contrary I seek it out. There is nothing like a bit of paranoia to keep the mind sharp and the body strong.

Well… this wouldn't be the first time I walked into someplace I was clearly not supposed to be, there was that one time in Japan at the task force center… but I'm sidetracking.

To scared to seek your fate Phillip? You know it's in there… the first step towards your destiny.

"Oi, voice, what the bloody hell do you know about destiny?" I said to myself, I really need to get my split personalities under check.

I know more than you do… well on a conscious level at least.

Now that was an insult, especially since I consciously controlled nearly ninety six percent of my brain. I just can't get a hold on that last four point two percent.

Despite my usual desire to avoid what the voices in my head say, but this time the voice sounded slightly different than before, more welcoming and less menacing.

So, I walked briskly inside and stole the first trench coat I found on a coat rack. It was a raggedy piece of cloth, but perhaps it would help me blend in.

I avoided a man who wore a turban and smelled distinctly if garlic and continued out the back door.

That letter I had snatched from Dursleys mitts had explicit instructions on where to find the magical place known as Diagon Alley and all the types of objects needed to be bought by any prospective student.

I often think that wizards are stupid, but sending thousands of letters with distinct instructions on how to locate there most important trading site to a man who would hand them out on the street if it meant to get rid of them? This was a new low.

Well, it didn't matter anyways; I was on the winning end and that is all that ever matters.

Now that I was out back all I had to do was walk into the alley and… there was a brick wall right in front of me!

Perhaps a bit of patience is required for this matter.

How much time has passed by since I sat here? It must be hours.

I feel like I've here for days. I must have been sitting for an eternity.

Why has no one come out! For that matter why haven't I starved, I've been out here forever.

Hmm… let's see, now the sun has traveled point zero zero one degrees west since I've been here, so it's been about two minutes. Well, it appears that despite my advanced intellect and control over many things in space, time seems to elude my grasp. I better not let anyone realize this weakness.

Oh! How serendipitous, it appears that someone is entering the alley, but how…

He tapped the wall with a stick several times and a path opened before him. I always need to remain grateful that no one ever seemed to be able to see me when I hid in the shadows. Are they stupid or am I just that good?

Well after the man left I jumped into action, tapping the walls in the exact same pattern I had just seen, but nothing happened. Once more, perhaps, although incredibly unlikely it may be, I put tapped the stones wrong.

Hmm… maybe this was one of those magic things I've heard so much about, yes that has to be it. Well, then I should wait for someone else to come.

When I become too bored of that I smashed my head threw the wall. I only had a moment to squeeze threw the hole, since the wall was apparently self-repairing.

What I saw disgusted me both mentally and to the point I nearly puked up my tea. So much magic, so much wizardry, I can barely tolerate three of the bloody little rats spread out among an entire village.

Well it was quite fortunate that it was too early in the morning for the majority of the populace to be out and about. That did however give me some time to kill.

Now, I could look into the local businesses; perhaps fill my time with a part-time job. Yes! That sounds lovely! So all I need to do now is put on my rags and find the help wanted ads.

It only took a matter of moments before I found a paper. The rotten little thing was trying to throw itself away! These wizards are far sicker people than I previously thought.

Now Let's see… I could apply at the bookshop, the wand shop, the potions shop, or a quaint little place called Borgin and Burkes. The last one sounds absolutely charming, and they are open at four in the morning too!

I walked down to the other alley, went down a few feet under the ground. Knockturn Alley, what a delightful name.

It took a little while to find the shop, but I didn't mind. This alley was far busier than the one above. I received more than my fair share of odd looks.

Normally I punished people physically for pointing me out in a crowd, but with wizards I find a simply snap of the wand was far more effective. The funniest part was when they tried to cast curses at me with the broken bits.

When they didn't explode back in the fiend's faces I found it to be great sport to outrun the shots. The simple pleasures of life are truly the best.

Once I had caused a sufficient amount of chaos and blamed it all on the guise I had adopted (one of my new abilities, in the every increasing need to survive I learned how to manipulate the ignorant masses minds into viewing me as a rickety old man named Murry) I entered Borgin and Burkes under my actual appearance.

I entered the shop and slapped the article on the counter; dropping all pretense of childish ignorance I looked the shop keep in the eyes.

"You want to work for me?" the man said, "Aren't you just a bit young? Won't your mother of father be worried about your safety?"

I smiled casually at the man and said coolly, "Dead and dead sir, and I would appreciate it if you stopped with your responsible shop keep routine, I doubt anyone buys it".

The mans face instantly turned from friendly adult to stern annoyance. He apparently didn't appreciate my brand of honesty.

"All right lad, it just so happens that I could use a street rat for some jobs that require a more delicate touch. By the way, my name's Mr. Borgin, and I won't be having any of that street language crap, call me, Mr. Borgin", Mr. Borgin said bluntly, "Now you look old enough to have a wand, I would like to see it to test what types of magic you've used and huh-hem remove a certain trace from it".

To this I smiled. What a splendid surprise this man would have when he found out that I'm not magical.

"Don't have one Mr. Borgin, and never will", I said with a devilish grin".

"Ohh… it's like that is it", Borgin muttered, he then flicked his wand to shut the curtains, "So you're a filthy squib are you?"

Squib? Now that confused me, but I usually just go with these things and being called filthy is nothing I'm not used to.

"Why yes, yes I am", I said.

"Well…" he said in contemplation, "I guess I could give you a job… but you have to prove your worth first".

The grin on Borgin's face gave me a bad feeling, but I ignored it for the time being. Perhaps this test will be easy, maybe I just need to fetch his favorite sandwich or something.

"You need the break into the Lestrange vault on the deepest levels of Gringotts bank and retrieve the five ornate daggers, there is a gold one, a silver one, a bronze one, a ruby one, and a diamond one. They are all housed in a jewel encrusted viewing case about the size of a common satchel. You are to bring this to me by no later than noon today without any trace of police behind you", Borgin finished at last.

He then pointed for me to leave and so I did. I like these wizards; challenges are always so fun and so terribly rare for me in these days.

It did, however, disturb me that Borgin just blatantly gave me a job he thought impossible in order to get rid of me. Oh well, it wasn't the first time someone had done that and it probably wouldn't be the last.

The walk out of the dungeon-like alley was short and less than eventful. It appears that normal wizards too embarrassed to say a small boy had broken their wands, because the security had remained as lax as before.

Now all that had to be done was find this Gringotts and assess the situation, it wasn't like I could miss a large bank.

Ouch!

I rubbed my nose after accidentally hitting the side of a large building. Once my mind realized where I was (taking about point zero one seconds), I looked at the grand stone masonry that made up the bank.

Hmmm…. Perhaps I could miss a large bank accidentally. After that it only took a matter of thought to decide the perfect plan.

In my younger days I often relished the opportunity to rob a bank for fun and bits of money, so I had dozens of different plans for this kind of situation. Instead of using them I walked into the front door.

Without breaking pace, I took in all the sights if the bank, the long and thin corridor that made up the entrance hall, the desks that lined every wall, the wizard guards, all wearing blue uniforms, caps and a blank expressions, and lastly there were all those odd looking little creatures hobbling around the place.

Oddly enough, I found the creatures charming, despite there clearly devious and sinister intentions to trick the wizards out of their money. Oh wait, it was because of that.

Using my impressive ability that I dubbed shadow lurking, I navigated my way in almost complete invisibility through the hall. Not a single living thing could sense my presence, but then again that can only almost always be said about me.

Once I was behind the oldest and greediest looking creature at the end of the hall, I overheard someone refer to them as goblins. Well that figures, first wizards, then goblins, huff… all the creatures I used to see in my mind are turning out to be real. I hope I don't find out those damn narrgles are real.

Well, I walked down the back door that obviously led to the vaults and walked forward into the darkness. Then I felt falling.

And falling…

More falling…

Now this is just an obscenely large pit, I must have been falling for five minutes.

If only I had a bit of light, then I could grab a safe ledge, oh well, I'll just have to risk my arm. Oh! I see a light below me; I'll try to grab it.

As it turns out this must be some kind of cart, because a goblin and some idiot was riding down deeper into depths of the pit. It seemed they liked their security, so I decided to stay and ease drop for a while.

Who knows, maybe I'll be able to black mail the speakers with their personal information later. Not that I could hope for that though, I would be lucky to get so much as a name, but that was a start.

With names comes identities and with them comes a foot into that persons life and then I can learn possible character flaws and if these people are as rich as I hope then I may just get something from this.

There were two people, one young possibly my age, the other older most likely the young one's father. I could barely hear them speak, given I was currently moving at several g's down a dark cavern.

"Now Draco, I do hope you make proper use of your new trust vault", the older said, "I have made the arrangements for ten thousand galleons to be placed in it from one of our families lesser vaults. With proper investments and reasonable spending it should swell in no time".

The goblin sighed slightly at the clearly decedent nature of his riders. The young boy on the other hand remained politely quiet; apparently he was an obedient little pup.

"Well Draco?" his father said mused, "What have you to say about this?"

"I am quite pleased with this and am firmly intent with of using this gold to the fullest", Draco said in a monotone drawl, "I do have one question though".

"What would that be, my son", the older man asked with even greater amusement.

"I trust my vault is in an area of great security, correct? I mean I would hate for my gold to be mixed with the common drabble", the little brat said.

The older man laughed, "You don't have to worry about that my son, your vault is down with all the noble family vaults right to the left of mine on the side the Lestrange family vault. No common rabble down there".

With that last line I stopped listening to the fools and climbed to better position myself in a state where I wouldn't be crushed in the imminent landing.

Once we were at the bottom I hid in the shadows and watched the people and goblin disembark.

"Get your filthy face over here you rotten goblin!" the older man yelled, "We don't have all day."

Draco laughed at the creature's unfortunate circumstances. I did feel the slightest pang of sympathy for the goblin, but it passed a moment later.

The goblin didn't go straight to the wizards though, he actually came right up to my face were I was hiding.

"If you're a thief then steal from them", the goblin said in a very warning tone, "Normally I would report your presence immediately, but I've been working for these cursed pure bloods so long that I feel like a bloody house elf! Just don't take much, it may ruin my career you do".

"Don't worry", I said, "I'm after one thing only".

"Good" the creature said with a devious and rather toothy grin, "If you wouldn't mind too terribly I would like some of the proceeds."

"You become my connection in Gringotts then I'll cut you a good rate", I commented.

The wizards yelled for the goblin to come. His sharp grin faded and he walked away, but not before shaking my hand and muttering, "Deal".

I sat and watched the goblin walk away. What was this feeling I felt welling up inside after truly being caught off guard. What do the people call it… surprise. It's intoxicating. I never felt that before.

Wait… Why does everyone always complain when I surprise them, this is the most wonderful thing I've experienced in a while. I suppose I just don't surprise them enough, they'll learn to like it enough if I just keep doing it.

Well, I suppose I had better just wait a couple hours for these wizards to leave and things to calm back down…

Time passes

" I'm the fly that's in your soup, I'm the pebble in your shoe, I'm the knife in every back that let's you know your doomed! And it's so easy when you're evil! This is the life you see, the devil tips his hat to me! " I stopped my merry singing for a moment to realize I was left completely alone in the catacomb like pit that was deep Gringotts.

Truly this was my kind of place. The scent of Earth hung so heavy, leaving me with a deep calm and tranquility. It was almost like I felt safe, almost.

Now it's time to go to the vault and pick myself up something pretty.

The dragon I saw before wasn't aware of my presence, apparently all the years of subterranean life hadn't sharpened its hearing enough to detect my silent steps. It probably didn't help the behemoth that I used telekinesis in an attempt to lighten myself.

Gravity has an acceleration of 9.8, but with my abilities I can counteract that force so gravity affects me half as much. I can't levitate yet though, that still eludes my grasp.

I finished that musing just as I stepped onto the stone steps outside a large gate signed Lestrange. It was quite the bit of good luck that I happened upon that cart as I fell; now not only will this heist go without a stitch, but also dozens more are now possibly.

Getting into the vault was much easier than expected, all I did was punch it fifteen dozen times and it came right off the hinges. I am quiet surprised the dragon didn't notice though, my power attacks can sometimes be quite loud.

Inside I saw some wonders that I could never hope to see in my deepest dreams. Piles upon heaps of precious gems mixed with mounds of gold. It took all my restraint not to stuff my pockets as full as they could go.

I didn't though; something about this treasure seemed… tainted.

It only took moments to find the daggers. It seemed that they were slightly more valuable than the good mister Burkes had said. They were in the exact center of the room made into a centerpiece of sorts, stacked beneath them were piles of old books.

I approached, carefully avoiding any bits of treasure because of my intuition. The blades were more beautiful than I first imagined. They each were made of assorted precious metals and had a single, yet massive, gem placed at the base of the hilt, which happened to be made bound with rather fine leather. The jewel blades, on the contrary, had a sliver of silver in the sapphire and gold in the diamond running down the blade.

I took the liberty of grabbing the box as soon as possible and decided to grab one of the smallest books as well, just on intuition.

Oddly enough nothing happened.

I walked out of the vault with the same care as before and then saw why things had been so easy. In front of me, gathered in a phalanx position and armored from head to feat, was a small legion of goblin soldiers and they didn't look very happy to see me.

I covered my face in the shadows so they couldn't identify me.

It only took a matter of moments before I saw my so-called associate standing beside the oldest and most decorated goblin.

"Did you really think that you were going to walk into the deepest pit of Gringotts without so much as a moments notice?" the oldest creature shouted without the slightest denial of pride, "Despite our current lack of freedoms due to your kind's laws, we still keep a rather hefty army on call for the greatest treasures we keep. Hell, we have two full legions stationed just beyond the American vault".

I smirked slightly even though the goblins couldn't see. My intelligent mind was already crafting an escape plan. This might be easier said than done, considering twelve rows of goblins stood in a semi-circle around the passage to the vault.

I pulled a voice modifier out of my pocket a friend had given me and spoke into it with a loud voice, "Hello gentlemen, I'm afraid that I'm going to be leaving quite successfully without any further hindrances."

The goblins all looked around at each other in surprise; apparently the rather high-pitched mechanical tone of my modifier left them uneasy.

"Umm…" the chief goblin began, "You don't seem to understand the circumstances you currently find yourself. I am Gripsmith, the chief of the sixth legion of goblin infantry, the only remaining of the original seven chiefs from before the great wizard war".

He obviously was trying to throw his title around in vain. I wasn't about to be intimidated by some old war hero.

He continued, "I am known as the slayer of men by my kin, for that is what I've done. If that doesn't scare you enough, all my soldiers are armed to the head with magic resistant armour made of the highest quality. What I mean to say is, there is nothing you can do. Boys, forward march."

Two of the goblins on either side of the chief charged and grabbed my side. I quickly put my modifier in my pocket and clung tightly to the daggers.

It didn't help my slowly worsening temper that my friend the traitor was the guy on my left.

Needless to say, I spat in his face.

"What was that for?" he grumbled.

I was about to share a few choice words with him when I noticed he slipped two things into my pocket.

"Muhahaha… HAHAHA!" I laughed manically, " I am no mere wizard! In fact, I am no wizard at all!"

On that note, to the distinct surprise of the entire assorted Goblins, I jumped clean over the entire group in a single bound. To make good my escape, I continued to jump up the walls of the cave.

I can't vertically run yet, but there were enough floor grips for me to manage. After all that it only took moments to reach the top. Shorter than when I was falling, actually.

After that it took seconds to make it to the door, I heard a flash as I sprinted threw the room. Rarely did a boy reach a horizontal speed of two hundred miles per hour, even if it was only for fifty yards. Needless to say, I'm fairly certain that picture won't be coming out properly.

Given my rather hasty escape and the fact that no one heard my real voice or saw me for that matter, I was fairly certain I was safe.

The walk back to the shop was far too peaceful for my taste, but I managed.

Needless to say Borgin was surprised to see me walk in with an ornate box of daggers slung underneath my arm. My massive smile didn't help is awe.

"Y-you… you weren't supposed to come back", Borgin muttered, "I-I s-sent you on an impossible mission. You were supposed to leave!"

"You'll find I have deadly efficiency when it comes to good jobs like this one", I said proudly as I placed the daggers and book on the counter.

Borgin quickly reasserted his composure and looked at me as if I was a very valuable tool that was going to make him very rich.

"Well, I suppose this is going to be the start of a very good association", the man said with an avarice filled grin.

~Time goes by for about an hour as I discuss my new internship with Borgin. My job is set, and he says something very interesting about my new book, which I get to keep as a signing bonus~

As it turned out, my newfound book turned out to be what the wizards referred to as a "blood tome".

Along with other useful features, including but not limited to, shrinking between its pocket size and massive full size (about the size of three dictionaries stacked upon each other and twice as wide). The second and far more useful attribute would have to be its contract abilities. Written on the front page was a set of instructions.

They followed as such…

Blood Tome

This tome's main purpose is to magically bind any deal strung by the bookkeeper.

This is accomplished by having the person seeking an accord to sign their name in their own blood with a thumbprint left at the right hand margin.

Any service done to an individual whom strikes a deal will have to repay their bargain with an equal or greater service of possession or face loss of magic.

Tap the ruby on the base of the binding three times to shift the size.

Good Dealing

Borgin told me blatantly to my face that this book was illegal in every nation magical and otherwise and that if any type of lawman found me I would be killed. He also said to share some of the profits with him.

I didn't bother staying much past that point, there was nothing left for me and he gave me the day off anyways. Since my intuitions had been so beneficial this morning I had decided to follow the next one and walk back to Gringotts.

This time not as a young boy though, I rapped myself in the rags I had stolen earlier and used a bit of my mental mind tricks to make everyone who saw me think I was an old man with bad posture and worse teeth.

As if on queue, I saw the very person I had been searching for all this day, Mark Dumbledore. It turned out he was leading Justin and old Suzy to the bank.

I decided I might as well mess with them, "You there! I'm looking for a boy. He's about five feet tall and has jet black hair, if that doesn't help you can identify him by the insanity in his eyes."

This was good even for me. I could see that Mark was putting the dots together even if the others couldn't.

"Sir?" the young Dumbledore asked, "Why are you after this boy?"

I spat rudely and shouted at the group of human children "Why am I after him? Why am I after him! This whelp bamboozled me out of my house, life savings, and my last good shirt! I don't even think I need to mention how ripe these rags have gotten either."

They nodded to everything I said. It appeared I had everyone right were I wanted it.

"I have another question sir", Mark said.

"Well spit it out!" I said.

"What was this boy's name?" the young American asked.

"Philip Crow!" I said with emphasized voice, "now if you see him; tell him Murray wants to see him."

On that note, the terrified little runts ran into the bank for safety and I sat on the ground and collected a bit of begging money. As I collected a few knuts, I decided it was time to check the merchandise that goblin had given me back in the caves of Gringotts.

In my pocket were two bags. Each was exactly like one might imagine a medieval wallet, just a bag with a bit of string to tighten it shut.

I couldn't open one of them, but the other appeared to have a letter inside it addressed from a mister Fiendclaw. I liked his name, it had character.

The note was short, but it read…

To my thief

The bag in which you found this letter is a bag of holding. It's old magic, one of the only things goblins can make these days. Anything you put in it, no matter how large, will hit, it has no limits.

The other bag is connected to one in my possession; I expect twenty percent of your earnings as a contact fee. Anything you put inside the bag will be given to me. In return I will assist you in any future _extractions_ you wish to make.

Happy thieving

Sincerely, Fiendclaw.

That is good news if I've ever seen it. Now it seems that I've become well adjusted to the local customs, I can finally do what I wanted to do since that long time ago when I arrived. Oh yes way back in the early hours of the morning. And that would be stalking and therefore trying to kill Mark and Harry.

To mark my luck a step further, Harry walked out of the bank and left the rather massive man he had apparently been traveling with and went to the wand shop at the other end of the street.

Needless to say, I followed. Instead of being under the guise of Murray this time, I just stuck to the shadows and stayed invisible.

After that, I am sad to report that I became rather intrigued with the wand sellers odd mannerisms. I decided to listen in for a while.

Hmmm… He is talking very much about being Harry's circumstances being curious.

Any wizard who heard would be shocked at the intense irony the filled the conversation. How the two wands had twin cores. Blah blah blah, he wouldn't stop saying curious the entire time!

Harry left, but I couldn't help but stay and listen to this insane old man ramble about his curiosities.

That same boy from the bank was next. Draco, I think. I sat outside the window and listened.

"Hmm… curious", the old man muttered.

"What's curious Mr. Olivander?" Draco said in sincere surprise.

"Well, Draco, it is curious that the wand that has chosen you is not reminisant of either your mother or your father, in fact it's not characteristic of a pureblood, but one of far lesser blood purity", Olivander said.

I almost gasped at the idiocy going on in there. Who cares what your wand says about how pure your blood is?

"Sir, how can this be? I am of the purest blood", the young pureblood gasped, "You're not going to tell my father are you?"

"Of course not. Lucius would have my head", the old man said, "Rest assured you are safe with me, I will give your wand a casing to hide its nature".

"Thank you sir", the boy said as he paid and left.

I waited for a few moments as I saw Susan come and go with much curiosity to be found.

Then it was Justin's turn. I overheard how odd and curious it was that an apparent muggle born received a wand of very notable quality that would usually only come with a pureblood.

He came and left as well. Finally Mark came through and I paid extra attention to this one.

"Mr. Dumbledore, I've been wondering when I'd see you here", the wand maker said coyly.

"You expected me? How is that possible? I'm a…" Mark stopped before he said what I could only assume to be American or spy.

"Simple really", Olivander said, "As it turns out I am a bit more connected than one might think. You'd be surprised what a wand maker knows. I can often predict the future based off peoples wands better than an oracle. When your grandfather came to this shop, I knew he was destined to have a family, but I haven't heard of you before. I can only assume you had a less than a conventional childhood."

"Well what about my wand?" Mark asked, trying vaguely to change the subject.

"Yes, yes", the old man mumbled.

Mark tried a vast variety of wands, most of which failed horribly. Olivander kept mumbling curious and curious as he did before with all the others.

"I wonder…" the man said.

He grabbed a very old and dusty wand from the top shelf.

"Try this one", Olivander muttered, "I have a feeling about this one".

Mark varnished the wand like he always did with his sword. I blue aura swirling light surrounded him.

"Oak, thirteen inches with dragon heartstring. Very sturdy, yet… quite flexible at the same time" Olivander muttered mostly to himself, "That might just be the oldest wand I've had the honor keeping. The dragon variety that had its heart taken to make that wand was the last of it's kind. They went extinct, but that was over millennia ago. There is a story about it if you've got the time."

Justin and Suzy knocked on the window right next to me. I had to stifle my laughs to stop them from noticing me.

"I suppose you don't have the time then", the old man said with a hint of disappointment barely detectable on his voice, "Another time then".

"Yes another time".

I watched Mark and company leave the shop and carry their various new belongings back to the now sufficiently buzzed Snape. Apparently somebody had a very fun morning.

No sooner had they left than did I enter the shop and flip the sign to closed. Olivander and I had some business to discuss.

"Old man!" I barked as I stomped to the front counter.

"Yes?" he mumbled as he looked up, "Are you here for a wand lad?"

"Quite the contrary actually, you see I've been watching you and I have some questions", I began.

"Of course", he said in a more formal tone.

"Why do you say every wand is curious?" I asked.

He stared blankly at me as if he didn't understand my meaning.

"That is easy my boy, it improves morale", he said with a smirk I had previously thought too devious for the old man.

A lesser mind might have gawked at what he meant, but being the little bundle of brains that I am, I instantly understood.

"So you use it to improve sales", I replied bluntly.

"Exactly", he remarked.

"That is so devious", I muttered with a growing sense of enthusiasm.

"Says the kid who went around all morning breaking any wand he saw", the old man countered.

"How did you know that", I said as I cocked my head a bit.

"Another simple answer. Wizards don't like not having a wand, as soon as you break them, they come right here for a replacement"; he said without the slightest effort to hide his joy at that fact, "you've earned me quite a bit of gold this morning."

I smirked then broke out into laughter, "You are far more entertaining than I assumed you'd be".

"As are you", he replied, "Now, it is important you can't stay here long my young associate. People might put two and two together, especially since I've decided you deserve some compensation."

He gestured to a small bag of gold on the desk right beside the door.

"Ten percent of the days profit, you've earned it", he said, "Now if you'd be so kind as to leave".

I walked toward the door and grabbed my money. A thought just hit me.

"Do you know where the wizard school is?" I asked.

"Platform nine and three quarters", he said, "If you're as resourceful as I think, you shouldn't need the train station or city for that matter, let's just say start in London".

I left with a grin on my face. Oh how I love such cryptic messages. Not only do I have all the information needed, but a challenge to reach the end goal.

I was right; these wizards are interesting.

"And that is the story of how I found out where the wizards go for school", Crow finished at last.

"I didn't ask you how you found out where the wizards go to school though, did I?" Carter Drake said irritably as he sat up in bed, "I asked what you were doing in my room at three in the morning".

"Same thing really", Crow countered.

"How is that the same thing!" Carter yelled.

Victor rolled over to face Carter from the other bed in the room and groaned, "Carter shut the hell up; I'm trying to sleep!"

"But Victor, it's Crow!" the younger Drake pleaded.

"No it isn't. I'd think I'd see if that little psycho was in here", the older brother replied.

Crow looked at Victor and spoke in a hypnotic voice, "If you don't stay quiet I'm going to beat you".

"If you don't stay quiet I'm going to beat you", Victor repeated in monotone voice with his pupils dilated.

Carter stared in horror.

Crow continued, "In fact, I'm going to beat you tomorrow morning anyways".

"In fact, I'm going to beat tomorrow morning anyways".

Carter gulped and covered his face with blankets in an attempt to fall asleep.

The young sociopath jumped out the second story window as he laughed maniacally into the night.

**Whenever something doesn't fit in the normal Foe glass book, or something is left unexplained, a chapter narrated by the good Philip Crow will reveal all that occurred.**


End file.
